Moral Grey Area
by Marochre
Summary: In which Trunks and Pan come to terms with seeing each other with a fresh perspective, after four years apart. Post-GT. Rated for future scenes.
1. Liquid Courage

AN: And so, here is a fairly unsatisfying beginning to what I hope will be a two or three part story. I don't really know where I want this to go. It was simply a concept I felt like exploring. No age changes, no excuses. No GT exclusions, much as I'd have liked to. I almost went with the Dragonball Online storyline, but it just didn't work for me in the context of this story. So, we're stuck with GT, though you can always cut out the final episode from this story's canon since I refuse to believe that the families would lose touch.

ANYWAY. I'd love feedback on this. I don't really know how vocal the T/P fandom is, or how appreciative they are of the actual age gap since all I seem to see on this site is extreme alterations that suit the moral compasses of your average writer. Fuck all of that noise, we're going for it!

I think the follow up chapter to this will be from Pan's point of view, then maybe one from Gohan or Videl. Or maybe parents first, Pan second. I don't know. I have a pretty decent idea of what I want from this, I just have to figure out a way to do it. As I said before, feedback is encouraged. Thanks in advance!

((PS: For reference, I am going with the 'canon' GT ages, even though I don't think they were portrayed very realistically in the show. That means that there was a five year gap between the end of DBZ and the start of GT, making Pan 9ish at that stage, and Trunks 23ish. This story is set around nine years after that.))

* * *

"But if I were sober?"

Her words repeated over and over in his head as he allowed his eyes to slowly take in her sleeping form. She had her back turned to him, and was curled into herself slightly, quilt bunched up between her knees. She was clad only in modest underwear and a plain white t-shirt, one that he'd thrown to her as she'd made a rather pitiful attempt to hold a towel around her body. If Trunks were a better man, he'd probably have covered her by now. His eyes fixed onto her back, where the t-shirt lay flat in the absence of a bra. He'd only recently become used to the fact that she even needed one of those, and now he was getting worked up over the fact that hers was in his bathroom somewhere.

Disgusting. People would no doubt say that about him. There was no other scenario. Her parents would murder him, his own would be ashamed beyond all belief. Here he was, in his early thirties, trying to resist a girl two months shy of eighteen. He'd been doing such a good job, too.

Then she had to go and kiss him.

That was the tired old story of statutory rapists everywhere though, right? He tried to resist, but she was too beautiful, too mature, and above all else, she wanted it. He would usually scoff at that stock-standard excuse, but really he had no idea how to phrase it any differently. She was beautiful, or at least she was to him. She had a maturity acquired through a lifetime of feeling (and being) different. And if last night was anything to go by, she definitely wanted it.

Fuck. Why couldn't Gohan and Videl have had the damn kid when they were sixteen or something? Pan would be in her twenties then, and this would be fine. Her appeal wasn't a result of her age. Trunks was confident that anyone who cared to look at his internet history would come to the conclusion that he held no such penchant for young girls. Surely everything he liked about her now would continue to exist five or six years from now. Could he wait, maybe? Was that a thing people did? Was he less of a creep if he held out, or was the mere desire enough to write him off for all eternity?

They hadn't seen each other for at least four years, not since Goten's wedding to Marron. There wasn't a reason for this break, exactly, it was simply a combination of her being at school and him working tirelessly. He had become more of a workaholic in recent years, a side effect of his best friend settling down it seemed. Less time for bar hopping or nights of poker and bourbon meant that he had to fill his time with something, and that something turned out to be work. He never thought he would be that guy.

His recent trend of spending time with Pan came purely on a whim. Gohan, upon being asked how his daughter was, had informed Trunks that as of late Pan had been isolating herself and was generally not the happiest camper. Though he hadn't implied in his explanation that Trunks should spend any time with her, the offer came out before Trunks knew how to stop himself, and before he knew it he was picking her up from work. She had taken to spending a couple of evenings a week behind the front desk of the Satan Hotel, an addition to the expanding empire which had been built a few years prior to her family deciding to spend the school semesters in West City.

She hadn't been overly receptive to his invite, but after he had dragged her along to a movie and cooked the two of them a passable meal at his townhouse she relaxed a little. She had talked to him about feeling like a freak, a notion that had plagued her since she was seven and a paranoid parent had insisted her child be moved to another class due to Pan's history in martial arts. She mentioned the uneasiness she experienced, returning to school after her extensive absence during the period spent in space with Trunks and Goku, and having to lie to everybody including her teachers. Finally, she revealed a brief period of time, very early in high school where she was so desperate to fit in with a group of girls, that she had given herself, only partially willingly, to a guy at a sleepover.

It was at that point that Trunks could see what being a Saiyan had done to this girl. Trunks had been lucky in that his entire schooling career had gone uninterrupted by enemy encounters. His own sister had managed to suppress most signs of her heritage, and as such had never really had to fabricate anything to cover for weird incidents. While he had maintained a few steady lies over the course of his life, Trunks at least had Goten by his side to provide positive commentary. Pan and Bra... they never clicked. They had tried, as it seemed like the right thing to do to have a Saiyan Girl Alliance, but they were very different. Both families had long since abandoned the fantasy of their two girls being best friends.

Gohan and Videl had both agreed that mainstream schooling was the best idea since Gohan, in all his awkwardness was a testament to the effects of an isolated, Mt Paozu education. Pan agreed, despite her struggles, and had talked about the activities she'd thrown herself into as a distraction from her worries. Trunks had been surprised to hear that she was a cheerleader; that was certainly a past time he had never expected Pan to embrace, being the tomboy that he remembered.

Except that she wasn't that tomboy. Not anymore. Sure, she wasn't flouncing around in tiny skirts and impractical shoes the way Bra usually did, but Trunks had almost immediately taken note of the subtle hints of mascara and lipgloss that graced the features of this girl he'd barely seen since puberty hit. He had mentioned how uncharacteristic cheerleading seemed of her, and when she responded with a shrug and pointed out that it was a fun and effective way of using up some of her energy reserves, Trunks' first thought was that he could think of a much, much better way to do that.

And then he had excused himself from the room momentarily to stand in the bathroom and ponder over exactly where the fuck that thought came from.

That had been a couple of weeks back, and since then they'd spent a few nights hanging out, watching movies and generally just making up for lost time. Not that he'd assumed prior to this that there _was_ any lost time to make up for. After all, she was a kid last time he checked. Sure, they had some strange memories together and their families would probably always be connected somehow, but their ages had always made it somewhat impractical to forge a real friendship.

At this moment, Pan was in his bed because she had attended a party earlier in the night, a birthday of some girl on the squad, and had very quickly had way too much to drink. She hadn't even wanted to go. She told Trunks as much, but he pushed her, said it was one of the last of her high school years and she should give it a shot. She had apparently meant it when she said she wasn't comfortable at parties and so, a few mostly incoherent text messages later, he had discreetly driven by the party and picked her up.

He just hoped that nobody there had noticed; it might not look great in the tabloids if Trunks Brief was picking up drunk high school girls at parties.

While Pan vomited into his toilet, Trunks stood close by the door. He occasionally checked on her while simultaneously having a brief conversation via text message with Videl, letting her know the situation as delicately as possible. It wasn't that Pan would be in trouble with her parents, but he didn't want them to worry.

Once his drunken companion was happy with the intense ten minutes she spent brushing her teeth, she had crawled into his bed and made herself at home. He wasn't about to tell her to go to the guest room, since she was clearly a little bit stressed by her situation. Not to mention, the gross, pervy side of Trunks was enjoying having a freshly showered girl lying skantily clad so near him. He had lived in his townhouse for just under two years, and it was actually slightly longer than that since he had seen any action. So, Pan was actually the first girl he'd be spending the night with in his 'new' room. That was weird.

Then, she'd kissed him. It had followed a short conversation about drinking in moderation and she had simply shuffled close to him and done it. Unceremoniously for sure, but with a startling amount of emotion. Trunks wasn't sure what to make of it, but he knew he couldn't allow it while she was in this condition, and said as much.

Pan seemed to consider this for a moment, before looking him square in the eye and posing that fateful question, "But if I were sober?"

To this, Trunks stared her down with attempted authority and said that he was not going to discuss it with her right now and that she should go to sleep. She had responded with a simple, "Fine," before rolling over and allowing sleep to overcome her. And Trunks lay there, mere inches away from her, wondering how the hell he would make sense of their situation before the sun came up and he was forced to talk.

* * *

Thanks for reading! TBC, I suppose. Hopefully the next chapters will see me deviate away from my consistent theme of alcohol and beds.


	2. Pushing

When Pan was about five years old, she had been sent to stay with the Brief family overnight so that her parents could have a night to themselves. This was back when hopes of a Pan-and-Bra friendship were still strong, so it didn't seem like a bad idea. And it wasn't, really. The two girls learned almost immediately that the best way to deal with their lack of compatibility, even at such a young age, was to just watch TV and be done with it. Later in the night, however, when the girls had been sent to bed, a storm hit and Bra had freaked out and gone to sleep with her parents. This left Pan alone in a foreign room, not exactly frightened but a little disillusioned.

Rather than disturb Bulma and Vegeta by demanding Bra back, especially since she didn't really mind one way or another, Pan had hesitantly walked up a flight of stairs and down a hall, and was pleased to see a bluish, flashing stripe of light from beneath Trunks' bedroom door. She could hear the TV as she approached. One there, she knocked, and waited for some kind of confirmation.

"Hello...?" came a baffled voice from inside the room. Fair enough, really, since it was well past midnight. Pan reached up for the door knob and twisted it, but only opened the door partially before poking her head inside.

Trunks was watching her from his bed with raised eyebrows.

"Hi," she said, stepping fully into the room.

Trunks grabbed a remote control and turned the TV down. "What's up with you?" he asked. He didn't sound unfriendly, but he clearly wasn't sure what to make of her presence.

"Bra doesn't like the storm," Pan explained. "So she left me and went to your mum and dad's room."

This earned a smirk from the teenager. "Of course she did. So, you've come to me? You're not scared of a little storm are you, kiddo?"

"No!" insisted Pan, crossing her arms for perceived effect. "I just... don't want to be all by myself. Your house is big and I like my house better."

Trunks rolled his eyes. "Right. Well, come over here then," he said, presumably realising that she wasn't leaving in any hurry. "But you're going straight to sleep, got that? This show isn't suitable for you."

"Okay!"

Pan had climbed into Trunks' double bed and almost immediately fallen asleep to the sounds of a TV show where the characters said words she wasn't meant to know. The next morning, Trunks had gently extracted her from beneath his quilt and carried her downstairs upon sensing Gohan's arrival to the compound.

Bulma, upon seeing her son carrying the little girl into the foyer, had sighed. "Bra said Pan was asleep and fine with the storm. What a little liar."

Gohan reached out and took his daughter, who at this point was mostly awake. "I hope she didn't bother you too much, Trunks," he said. Then he looked down at Pan.

"Since when are you bothered by storms, Panny?"

She didn't respond, instead she just buried her face in the crook of her father's neck.

"It's fine, Gohan, she just went straight to sleep. I think it was just because she was away from home," Trunks said, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Now, I'm going back to bed. I don't know why you all insist on being up so early."

"Trunks, it's nearly midday," Bulma said, but her son was already halfway down the hall.

* * *

Despite spending months in space with him a number of years later, an arguably more interesting memory, this had always been one of Pan's most vivid recollections of her childhood where Trunks was involved. Maybe because it was more commonplace, one she could relate to a 'normal' life. Everything that she had done as a warrior, although she didn't feel traumatised or regretful, resonated like someone else's memories.

Vividness aside, however, it quickly occurred to Pan that even this memory felt like it was from a different lifetime. She had trouble connecting the fact that the Trunks whose bed she had wriggled into as a child was the same Trunks, twelve years later, with whom she wanted to occupy a bed for different reasons. Admittedly, this had not been the case until he had picked her up from work that day. Until then, he had been the same old slightly moody teenager who had grown up enough to be Goten's best man but wasn't a 'real' grown up like her parents.

Now, he was a businessman. He wore suits to work, drank strong coffee, and had a million different electronic devices for his various business-y needs. By all accounts, Pan should have felt more like a child than ever. Sitting in his loungeroom, sipping at a frappe he'd bought her from the cafe across the street, she instead felt... sophisticated, perhaps? That might not have been the right word. The main thing was that she felt like an adult. Trunks seemed determined to treat Pan as his equal, and she supposed that was the best thing for the situation.

She had resisted growing up, initially. The moment she stopped being a spindly little child, she felt held back by her body and all its sudden betrayals. She had always been able to count on it to not let her down, but suddenly there were boobs in the way, or a period making her feel like total crap for a week at a time. By the time she hit fifteen, she was slightly taller than her mother, as well as more filled out, and she had hated it. Boys looked at her differently, although since her early experience she tended to be aloof enough to not maintain anybody's interest for very long.

That stupid night in her first year of high school had really done a number on her. Her parents had always assumed their daughter was safe from various kinds of unwanted actions, and she was if it came down to physical strength alone. They hadn't considered the consequences of peer pressure however, and neither had Pan until she was already kissing this strange boy, and trying not to vomit from the feeling of his sloppy, insincere touches. She thought it was what was expected of her. Maybe it was. He seemed pretty insistent, and the girls had said she should go to his room... but apparently she was meant to make him work for it. That was what she was told the next morning. Then at school, suddenly all eyes were on her and she felt like they could see, retroactively, into that bedroom. The moment the word 'slut' was muttered in her direction she had walked off campus and flown home, not caring who saw. Unexpectedly, her father was home and she was coaxed into having the most awkward conversation of her life.

The aftermath of that situation was fairly simple. Her distress was apparent enough after another day of school, that when her parents asked if she wanted to move to a different school she immediately said yes and that was that. The transition was smooth, and her somewhat 'celebrity' status kept people from being too concerned about why she was there. There were other more pertinent questions apparently, and she answered them patiently but with a sense of detachment. She just wanted to get through high school, then do... something else. She wasn't sure what. Anything else.

Pan had been mortified when she woke up the morning after her drunken mess of a self had been tucked into bed. Trunks was beside her and was too engrossed in a book to notice her awaken until she hesitantly tapped his shoulder. He had immediately placed his book down and handed her a glass of water from his bedside table, a gesture that pleased Pan greatly even though it was basic decency. She winced a little as she sat up to accept the glass, her hangover suddenly overwhelming her in the form of a splitting headache.

"How are you feeling?" he'd asked once she gulped down the water in seconds.

She shrugged, and played with the glass in her hands. "Headache-y. Stupid."

The glass was retrieved from her grasp, and placed back on the side table. "I'm not sure how much you remember, but I'll say again that it happens to the best of us," he said with a comforting smile.

She almost melted; damn that guy could smile.

While she couldn't see for herself, Pan was aware she wasn't wearing as much clothing as she would generally opt to around the opposite gender. "I'm not wearing a lot, am I?" she said quietly, sliding back down to rest on her pillow. "That's embarrassing."

"I, uh... didn't really look. I promise," he replied carefully.

Pan chuckled awkwardly. "It's fine. I'm just embarrassed that I would assume it was fine with _you_," she hesitantly explained.

He looked away, and stared at the ceiling. "Well, it _shouldn't_ be fine with me but as it turns out, I'm a pretty awful person. Because it _was_ fine with me, and I also lied just now about looking."

"It's okay," she said, and shuffled slightly closer to him. She felt him tense up. "I promise. And I'm _not_ lying."

She really wasn't lying. Knowing that Trunks had looked at her legs, her underwear, her form that was probably pretty visible through the t-shirt... it felt nice. She got goosebumps thinking about it. Good goosebumps.

"You saying it's okay doesn't make it so, Pan," Trunks replied. "I always go for women my age. This isn't something I've learned to justify."

Pan closed the gap between their bodies, and rested her head against his shoulder. "I'll be eighteen soon if that helps."

Trunks stayed put, though Pan could feel the back of his hand against her leg, a touch she had initiated when she pressed herself to his side.

"I'm pretty sure it's not illegal right now or anything, but it still makes me a huge creep," he said. He rolled onto his side, facing her. "I can see you don't think so, but why don't you call your father and see what he has to say."

She looked him in the eye, and smirked. "Maybe he'd say, 'Go for it Trunks, my daughter could use a real man,'" she said, then closed her eyes to ease her headache a little.

"I think you might be a little off the mark there, Girly," Trunks said. Despite his statement however, he wrapped an arm around Pan's waist and cuddled her. "Stop trying to be smart while you're hungover. Just rest."

He smelled so nice. Not like the guys at her school who all smelled of the same crappy deodorant spray. It made her want to kiss every visible part of his skin, and maybe some of the less visible parts too.

"Maybe if you kissed me I'd feel better," she said brazenly.

His sigh vibrated through her. "I think it's meant to take a bit more than kissing to do that," he said, and the implication made Pan's stomach flutter. He pressed his lips to her forehead, as if that was going to placate her hormones.

"Please?" she begged softly, lifting her gaze to look him directly in the eyes. "Then you'll know for sure whether or not you think it's a good idea."

Trunks wriggled his fingers over her back a couple of times. "Oh, I already know it's a terrible idea," he said, meeting her gaze with an almost challenging stare.

"But..." he said, trailing off and thinking to himself for a moment. "I also know that I'm delaying the inevitable by being all patronising to you. Hoping you'll decide against it, maybe."

"I really won't," she replied, biting her lip nervously but standing her ground.

"Well then, I guess we're going to make out," Trunks said diplomatically. "Could you do it, though? When I go to hell after your parents murder me, I'd like to be able to say that it was at least a tiny bit your fault."

Pan didn't need to be told twice, and with that she leaned in and kissed him. His hand moved down her back, over her hip and gripped her leg softly and she caught herself before she shivered with pleasure. Was she really that tightly wound?

They kissed for what felt like quite a while, but when they stopped Pan realised it had only been a few minutes. She attributed that to her previous experience where the kissing lasted for all of ten seconds before there was a hand in her underwear, prodding away unskilled and unpleasantly. She liked how different this felt.

She wondered if she could convince him to take it a little further, but he was already hopping out of bed.

"Do you want breakfast? I don't know what kind of hangovers you get but mine always leave me starving for bacon," he said, as if nothing had happened.

She nodded, and began to climb out from under the quilt.

"Uh, there might be some pants that will fit you in that drawer there," Trunks said quickly, pointing at a tallboy near the door. "The second one down. Just pull the drawstrings really tight, I guess."

* * *

After she had flown home from Trunks' house, she had recounted her stupid drunk night to her mother, who did the motherly thing by telling her to be more safe, but she was otherwise understanding. She thought the conversation was over, and she got up to go to her room for a nap, but Videl followed her in.

"Um, Pan?" she started, and Pan knew exactly what was going to be said next because she could see her mother picking her words carefully. "Are you, well... Are you being careful with Trunks?"

"Careful with Trunks?" she'd asked, though she wasn't sure why she pretended not to know. She wasn't going to lie about it; that would cause way too much chaos.

"You've spent a bit of time with him lately, and I just want to make sure you're... you know, not getting any ideas," Videl replied.

"Yeah, about that..." Pan trailed off, and sat down on her bed.

"Oh god, what?" Videl exclaimed, and stepped fully into the bedroom before shutting the door. "What has happened, Pan? What are you doing?"

"It's fine, Mum. I swear, it's nothing, it's... I was dumb, and I kissed him last night because he was nice to take me in and he stopped me because he's a good guy, okay?" Pan was mortified for the second time today, and vocalising it made her realise how intense the whole thing sounded outside of Trunks' house.

"And that's all?" asked Videl, staring at Pan as if trying to read her brain.

"Well... no," Pan replied and immediately jumped to explain as Videl's eyes widened in horror. "Mum, don't freak out, please! I woke up this morning and we talked a bit and he told me it's a horrible idea but I asked him to kiss me anyway. And so he did, but that's all, okay? I know he's older, and I'm stupid but I like him and..."

"And?"

Pan exhaled before continuing. "I think he likes me. I don't know. He doesn't want to, you know? He thinks you and dad will kill him. But I feel really comfortable with him. I'm _happy_ when he's around."

She felt a bit guilty pulling the 'happy' card. She knew her parents were trying their hardest to make sure she was happy lately, since she'd been struggling, but it was true. She was happy being around him. She didn't have to pretend to be a normal person. It was liberating.

Videl stood there, absorbing all this information. Pan felt bad; when her parents had let her go to this party, they probably hadn't assumed she would end up in bed with a guy in his thirties. Better than some other older guy that they'd never met, but only barely.

"I don't know how I feel about this," she said, finally. "I won't straight up tell you that you can't do it. I think better of you than to assume I can make the choice for you."

"It, uh... sounds like you want me to make a certain choice, though," Pan replied quietly.

Videl walked over to Pan's bed and sat down. "Pan... look, I would probably tell you to stop if I didn't know Trunks already. That is your only saving grace, got that?"

"He doesn't usually like younger girls. All his girlfriends have been his age, right?" Pan asked, even though Trunks had already said as much.

"As far as I know, yes," Videl said. "Is that what you want? To be his girlfriend?"

Pan hadn't thought about it specifically in those terms. She hadn't really allowed herself to until that moment. It seemed like dangerous territory to venture into so early, especially with her mother. "I don't know, Mum," she said, holding her head in her hands. "I don't want to overthink it right now. I just want to have a nap."

Videl nodded, and stood up. "That's fine. I'll wake you up for dinner." She made her way to the door, and stopped only when Pan called out for her to wait.

"Are you going to tell Dad?" asked Pan.

"I have to, don't I?" Videl replied, looking apologetic. "I wouldn't usually tell him this kind of stuff if you didn't want me to, but you know they work together sometimes."

"I know. And it's fine. I don't mind you telling him," Pan said, climbing under her blanket. "That might be weird dinner conversation though. Can you tell him when you go to bed, maybe?"

"Sure. I'll cut you a break," said Videl with a smile.

Pan smiled, so incredibly grateful that she had an amazingly understanding mother. She hoped she had an understanding father, too.

Pan had been nervous and excited about the next time she and Trunks would see each other. All week at school, she had managed to laugh off the occasional comments about how drunk she had gotten, and lied about who had picked her up. She didn't even mind the attention, because all she could think about was seeing him again. It felt like a scandalous secret, one she knew would be off limits to her school friends. They were close enough that she could tell them basic things, like minor fights with her parents, but this was best kept to herself and she knew it.

Trunks had sent her a text message later in the evening after she'd napped and eaten dinner. It was basically just a check-up, to make sure everything was fine with her hangover and her parents. She had replied affirmative on both counts, and he had asked if she wanted to stay over on Friday night. Pan had thought she'd have to force her way back into his house again, so she was pleased to have it made so easy for her. Then again, he had kissed her goodbye before she had gone home that day, so she was probably just being paramoid.

He had come by her school to pick her up that Friday, a formality that struck Pan as a little risky, but it was easy enough to explain away if she needed to. From there, they'd headed straight back to his place, recapsulating his car outside the coffee shop across the street to buy a drink before heading inside the townhouse.

So there she was, on Trunks' couch, drinking the frappe that he had described as 'ridiculous', watching as he finished up a work related call a few steps away. After hanging up, he sat down next to her and sipped at his hot coffee, and complained that the weather was too hot for these sorts of drinks.

"That's why they invented iced coffee, I think," Pan said, holding out her drink to him.

He threw her an amused look. "I'll pass on that, I think. I'm not sure what you're drinking really counts as coffee," he said, as he slipped an arm around her shoulders for a chaste cuddle.

"There's coffee in here somewhere," she retorted in defense of her drink. "Under the chocolate and cream."

Trunks just smiled, before pressing a kiss to her temple. She could smell the coffee on his breath, but it was a smell she'd always been quite fond of. She swivelled around to face him, and swung her legs up over his lap. It put him in a perfect position to kiss her properly, and he did so without being asked, hesitating only to place his coffee on the table in front of the couch. She quickly followed suit so that she had full dexterity at her disposal.

His kisses had lost the gentleness they had the previous week. Pan could feel a lot more eagerness, more lust, radiating from his body. His hands found her waist, her hips, her legs, the latter of which Pan had shaved freshly that morning and was feeling very good about. However presumptuous her preparation was, she felt confident knowing that her bra and underwear were also particularly nice.

Their position had changed so that she was flat on her back beneath him, hips locked together so that she could feel a growing firmness against her. He nudged softly against her and even through her clothes, that felt good. Her school uniform wasn't great for this, though. Her shirt was tucked into her stiff, pleated skirt and she felt suffocated by it. She didn't know how far Trunks was willing to take things at that moment, however, so she ignored the clothes and focused on how nice it felt, being touched through them.

Trunks broke the kiss, and breathed heavily for a moment. "What would Goten think of this?" he asked.

Pan scrunched up her nose, not wanting to think of her uncle while making out. "Why is he the first person you're mentioning?" she responded, confused.

"Well," Trunks replied, "You said your parents know. And I'm still alive, so they're obviously kind of okay. Goten, though..." he trailed off, and kissed her cheek.

"He'll probably be pissed off but whatever, he married the most boring person alive so why do I care what he thinks?" Pan blurted out before she could stop herself.

Trunks' jaw dropped and Pan caught an amused sparkle in his eyes. "Right? So boring! I'm glad you think so, too. I've been holding back about that for years," he said, resting his head in the crook of her neck before placing some kisses on her collarbone.

"If he hates the idea of you doing this, will you stop?" Pan asked, moving her hand up through his hair as he continued to kiss up her neck to her jaw. The question caused him to stop for a moment.

"Can we just not tell him for now so that I don't have to think about it?" Trunks replied. Pan kissed him in response. "I'll take that as a yes," he said and resumed their activities.

Talking could wait until later.

* * *

AN: So that's part two. I think I meant to achieve more in that, but it's already long enough I think! I hope Videl's response didn't seem too... chilled out? I don't know. We'll get a chapter dedicated to Videl and Gohan's thoughts on it, anyway, so it may seem oversimplified now but we'll get into that more at a later point, heh.

I hope it wasn't super scattered. It jumped back and forth a couple of times there.

Anyway, reviews and such are appreciated as always, and I'm glad it has been well received so far! Cheers y'all!


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